


wear it just for  you

by ClassyFangirl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Tattoo Care, Tattoos, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyFangirl/pseuds/ClassyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newton gets a new tattoo in a tricky to reach place and needs Hermann's help to take care of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wear it just for  you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bravinto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/gifts).



> A request fill for the lovely, wonderful bravinto! Sorry this is so short and nothing gets resolved, whoops. Title is taken from the Dropkick Murphys' song "Rose Tattoo".

Newt knows how to take care of a tattoo, okay, he’s not an _idiot,_ but he’ll admit that maybe getting a back tattoo wasn’t his best idea.

Everywhere else on his body he could reach with relative ease, so he’d never had a problem with it before. But now, he can hardly touch the new tattoo with the tips of his fingers, and that’s...going to pose a problem really soon.

In the lab, a couple hours into the work day, he has to break down and ask. “Hey, Hermann? Could you do me a...tiny favor?”

Hermann looks over at him, frowning. “What on earth do you need? I’m not checking your maths for you, I know you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.”

Newt tries his best not to roll his eyes. He doesn’t succeed, but he tries, and it’s the thought that counts. “Not that. See, uh, I got a new tattoo last night, but it’s on my back and I can’t exactly reach it. But I’ve gotta put ointment on it every few hours or it won’t heal right, so-”

“Absolutely not.” Hermann turns back to his chalkboard without another word.

“But _Hermann_! Come on, please?”

“No. I’m sure you can manage to reach it yourself.”

“Dude, do you think I’d be asking if I _could_? I _tried,_ man, no luck.” Newt crosses his arms and grins. “If you don’t help me, it could get infected and I could _die_.”

Hermann’s chalk pauses mid-equation. “That can’t possibly be true.”

“Do you know enough about tattoos to dispute me?”

There’s a long, agonizing pause before Hermann sighs and puts his chalk down. He crosses over to Newt’s side of the lab and looks at him expectantly. “Well? What do I need to do?”

Newt’s grin grows, ecstatic that he’s won. He takes the tube of ointment and tugs the back of his shirt up. “Just rub a tiny bit on really gently- like, a tiny, _tiny_ bit, really light.”

Hermann sighs and takes the tube from him. His fingers trace Atticon’s face as he gently rubs the  ointment onto Newt’s skin. Newt does _not_ shiver, no, he doesn’t- instead, he asks, “D’you like it?”

“It’s...it’s quite well-designed. As always, I loathe the subject matter but I won’t deny that it is, artistically, stunning.”

“Aw, thanks, man. I designed it myself.”

Hermann hums thoughtfully. “You have quite an artistic eye, Newton.”

Newt smiles, and steadfastly pretends there is _nothing_ intimate about Hermann complimenting him while rubbing ointment on his bare back. Nope.

Hermann clears his throat and steps back. “When will you, ah, need this again?”

“Oh- in, like, three hours I guess? Thanks, man.”

“Of course.”

The next three hours are relatively normal, for them. They bicker and argue as they always do, with little actual cruelty behind it. It’s Hermann who remembers first, but he’s got that head for numbers that Newt just doesn’t have. So he’s a _little_ surprised to see Hermann right next to him exactly three hours later, but he does _not_ jump, no matter what Hermann says afterwards.

Hermann wordlessly takes the ointment and doesn’t wait for Newt to pull his shirt up- he just does ahead and does it, which, hey, Newt’s not gonna complain. Newt lets himself lean against the desk, bending forward to give Hermann better access.

“I must say,” Hermann says quietly, and it makes his voice all low and rough, _oh god,_ “it’s quite good that you asked me to do this. I don’t know that I’d trust you to remember on your own.”

Newt snorts, mildly offended. “ _Please,_ dude. You see my arms? I totally remember on my own just fine.”

“Really?” He sounds doubtful, if amused.

“Well, okay, _maybe_ I have to set reminders on my phone- don’t judge me, Hermann.”

“My apologies,” Hermann says, almost laughing. _Shit,_ that shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “I’ll put more faith in you next time.”

His hands linger for a moment too long, his fingertips tracing gently on the skin around the tattoo. Newt inhales sharply- they’re so close, he could turn around and finally-

Hermann steps back very suddenly and coughs. “Wonderful. All done, then. I’ll just- I’ll return to my calculations, and we’ll...take care of this again in another three hours.”

Newt nods. “Uh- yeah. Yeah, totally. I’ll, y’know, I’ll let you know.”

The lab is awkwardly quiet and tense for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> (Newt's line "Do you know enough about tattoos to dispute me?" was shamelessly inspired by It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I'm trash.)


End file.
